Ya'aburnee
by RakugakiInk
Summary: The first day is the hardest because he's still got Sammy's blood caked under his nails and he can't bring himself to wash it off, not yet.


**Ya'aburnee**

The first day is the hardest because he's still got Sammy's blood caked under his nails but he can't bring himself to wash it off, not yet, not even when he has to sew up his own shoulder. It's a bitch to have to do it himself but Dean'll give Sam crap about not being there to help when he gets back. Maybe he'll also complain about the blood splatter on his favourite shirt but then again, Sam's the one who got stabbed by that demon bitch, so probably not. Sammy'd say it was insensitive or some bullshit. Dean pulls the last thread tight and barely flinches as he trickles whiskey over the stitches. And if that first day more of the whiskey gets swallowed down than poured over the wound, well, Sammy's dead and Dean figures he has a couple of days at least before he gets his ass back down to Earth.

The first week is the hardest because Sammy's still not back yet but if nothing else, their track record shows that if you wait long enough, the Winchesters come back swinging. So Dean will keep waiting but in the meantime, the world doesn't come to a stand still just because Sammy's getting some beauty sleep. Dean packs up the motel room and carves a set of coordinates inconspicuously near the night stand. Sam will know where to look and Dean will be waiting for him. He's out of whiskey but he's still got time to get more.

The first month is the hardest because Bobby won't quit calling and Castiel keeps hiding the whiskey because Sam isn't there to do it. Dean won't stand still anymore, the first few hunts he lingered hoping Sammy was just catching up but the passenger seat remained empty and so did the bottle of Jack. Now Dean hits as many places as possible, fast as possible and maybe he's hoping Sammy's looking for him at old haunts but he tells Castiel that the reason he drives from one side of the country to the other is that Sammy would want him to keep up the good fight. Bobby keeps asking him to visit but Dean's busy and he doesn't want to sit on his hands out in South Dakota just because Bobby thinks he's in denial. He doesn't have time for chick flick moments, he's already dreading how long Sam's gonna want to talk about what exactly happened while he was AWOL. It's been a month and Dean doesn't want to stop the role he's on but next time he swerves onto the other side of the road might be his last. He stops as some no name hotel and orders two queens. When he finds the whiskey it's still empty but he doesn't buy another. Dean reckons he's pushed his luck enough, Sammy'll only throw it out anyway.

The first year is the hardest because Sammy's taking his sweet time and Dean doesn't want to do this alone. He keeps waking up from the dream where they're both dead but Sammy's in heaven and Dean's in hell and it hurts not having his soulmate with him in the afterlife. It hurts more when it's the other way around because Dean doesn't know what home is outside of Sam and heaven just seems like a new form of torture when he knows Sam's stuck down below. Words cannot describe how much he aches at the thought of spending an eternity without his brother and how it feels like he's burning under the skin, smouldering as he pictures Sammy waiting an eternity in hell for his big brother to save him. This is what scares him most, the thought that they might not both be heaven bound, not after everything. He still remembers when it was easy breaking stain glass windows and stealing holy water and when angels were something ethereal and beautiful and so full of light, remembers when Castiel use to be like that. It's hard because he doesn't want to do this alone and whiskey doesn't taste much different to water. Castiel isn't so full if light anymore, Sammy is doing god knows what before coming back and Bobby only picks up sometimes when Dean calls. Dean is tired of killing everything that moves.

Every day is hard, every second, every moment, every passage of time that Sammy isn't with him is hard but it's that first instance, that first realisation that's hardest. It hits him in the face, literally, a poltergeist has him in a bad way and Dean realises that no one's coming to save him, there's no one to rescue him because Bobby doesn't answer when he calls and Castiel can't even look at him and Sam's dead, Sam's dead dead dead and he's not coming back, he's not waking up this time and Dean doesn't want to do this alone, he can't, he won't but he knows he will. He will because Sammy's dead and Dean doesn't want to live but he will. He'll keep going because he knows that's what Sam would have wanted. He goes to a church and he sits in a stuffy pew and he can't bring himself to do anything because his brother is dead and he might as well be. He keeps going because he needs faith, he needs to believe that Sammy's waiting for him up there somewhere. In heaven where Dean figures they'll do what they've always done. They'll get in the impala and drive and drive and nothing will stop them, nothing will slow them down. Just him and his brother, each of them so full of light. Faith doesn't stop the ache that's become as constant as breathing, doesn't stop how it hits him in the way he still grabs two beers, still orders a salad, still turns to look after he's made a stupid joke. It's these things that weigh him down and remind him that Sammy's dead and faith doesn't stop that, but it helps.

Dean leaves a message on Bobby's answering machine that equates to "I'm sorry". Bobby rings him back and tells him to visit. Dean goes to South Dakota and Castiel meets him halfway there. It's no longer surprising, the way Castiel appears at random, but Dean appreciates that he still does so in the back seat. When they get to Bobby's doorstep he expects a shotgun, or holy water in the face, or something, anything other than the silent, weary look that Bobby throws his way and the tilt of a head that means get inside. For the first time in a year Dean looks at Bobby and tells him the thing that's been wearing away at his bones, clawing at him every second of every day. Sammy's dead, Sammy's dead and he's not coming back this time. Bobby offers him whiskey but Dean declines. Later, they take two old fence posts and make a cross. Dean carves Sammy into it and each scrape of the knife feels like it's raking his skin. They stand there, an old man running on empty, an angel devoid of light and a brother who may never be whole again, and they are not alone. Dean hasn't ever felt so lonely but he's not alone. It isn't quite the comfort it's made out to be, but it helps.


End file.
